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finalresidentevilfantasy · 15 hours

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Promise me Leon.

A/N: Hiiii, I'm back after a long break! Sorry this took so long, I was in a bit of a writing slump but hopefully we're over it and will be posting more content over time.

Warnings: talks of guns, blood, death, major character death, kinda fluffy but hella angsty. No happy endings here. No use of Y/N. Reader is female but no description of appearance is used.

W/C: 1.9K.

Pain, that was all she felt. Clutching at her side as she stumbled down the corridor Leon had carried Ashley down. She lifted her hand from her abdomen, it was covered in blood, all her own. Krauser had managed to throw a knife, the blade landing straight into her, slightly towards the left hand side of her body. Leon had managed to bandage it up pretty well afterwards.

"Shit!" Leon was by her side in seconds, Krauser laying in a pool of his own blood after Leon was finished with him. "You okay? Still with me?" His voice was full of concern as his eyes scanned every inch of her.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." She reassured with a small smile. Leon's eyes found hers and she found herself getting lost in them, as she always did when they were this close. The blue, it was gorgeous, calming. His stare lingered a little longer than usual before he shook his head slightly working on the task at hand.

"There, that should hold until we can get out of here." Leon said, look of triumph on his face. The knife had left a clean cut, an easy wound for Leon's first aid training, he'd managed to stop the bleeding, careful hands worked as he bandaged her up. She swore every time his hand brushed over the skin of her stomach her heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you Leon." She spoke softly, taking his hand in her own, a bold move on her part. "I appreciate it."

"No sweat." Leon brushed off nonchalantly, a smile gracing his lips, he didn't let go of her hand, enjoying the warm, soft feel against his fingertips.

Neither had acted upon it but they both knew that they harboured feelings for one another. The hours they spent together in training, Leon pushing her past her limits to get her anywhere near as good as he was. Taking the time to personally train his new partner, the time they spent together? Who wouldn't fall in love?

"I'm sorry." She suddenly sighed, she'd taken her eye off the ball and that was how she'd gotten stabbed, but Leon was in danger of course her attention was elsewhere. "I should've been paying more attention."

"Yeah, you should." His voice startled her, was she about to receive her first lecture from the man in front of her? But then he sighed "don't scare me like that again. I don't-" he hung his head as he cut himself off. Then, after a moment, his eyes snapped back to hers and they were filled with such a passion, a fire she hadn't seen before. "I don't think I'd survive losing you."

How she wished things could be different as she used the wall to steady herself. She'd stayed behind to distract Saddler, giving Leon and Ashley time to run, get a head start on removing the Plaga's. But she wasn't good enough, not fast enough, Saddler had reopened the wound Leon had closed. Her adrenaline giving her enough strength to knock him out but at a cost to herself.

She knew Leon would be furious with her. She'd dropped a statue between them, giving him no choice but to leave her behind, Ashley was the priority but she also had to make sure Leon made it out, the veins in his arms and face an indication that his time was running out. She was the only one of the three who'd managed to avoid infection but she had a feeling she'd be paying a different price for that.

She stumbled into Luis' lab just as Leon lost consciousness, Ashley breathing hard for a moment before she picked up Leon's pistol, pointing it in her direction. Ashley's eyes blew wide as she took in one of her rescuers state, dropping the gun. Her name leaving Ashley's lips as she continued to stumble forward, focus on Leon.

"Saddler?" Ashley asked and she shook her head in response to her question.

"Just knocked out, I think. I don't think I killed him." She stumbled again as she took a step. "Ashley, I need you to help me get him up." She spoke, it hurt to speak now, not only had Saddler reopened the wound but he'd made it bigger, the blood loss was fast now, a clear trail of blood following her everywhere.

Ashley was quick to help her, bearing some of her weight for her. "You need to sit." Ashley's voice was concerned and rushed.

"No, Ash." Her voice was confident, stern, despite her weakening condition. "Leon, we have to help him." She stumbled further, almost out of Ashley's grip as she made a bee line for her partner who was becoming more consumed by the veins, they were wasting time.

"But you need-" Ashley tried again and she spun to look at her.

"I'm not getting out of here. Come on, look at me, I'm dead weight, I'm a liability. But Leon, he's gonna be okay, he has to be okay, if this is the last thing I ever do, it has to be saving him Ashley." Her eyes were pleading with the president's daughter for help, her eyes lined with tears, Ashley's having already spilled over. "This is my last mission," a watery smile on her lips, "you gonna help me complete it?"

Ashley nodded reluctantly, both women moving to help the unconscious agent up. She groaned as she bore most of Leons weight, his head falling onto her shoulder, Ashley quick to help as they both manoeuvred him onto the chair. She almost screamed in pain, using the last of her strength as she placed him down, she fell onto one knee then, Ashley running to start the machine.

"God, I wish I'd have told you how much I love you." She whispered as she ran a hand through Leon's hair, he looked peaceful, even with the black veins consuming him. "You really are beautiful Leon." She smiled as she watched the black veins disappear, the machine having worked.

Ashley brought a chair for her to sit on as they waited patiently for Leon to wake up and at some point she lost her own consciousness.

*****

Her name. That was all she heard, she opened her eyes, her vision blurry but she could make out the beautiful blue staring into her own eyes. He was crying, she probably looked terrible. She was now laying in the same chair they'd put Leon into.

"Hey." Her voice was weak, how she'd managed to regain consciousness was beyond her. But she was thankful, perhaps she'd get to say goodbye.

"Don't talk." His voice was frantic, hands covering her wound as he placed as much pressure as he could, he was trying to stop the bleeding but they both knew, whatever he did, it wasn't going to be enough.

"Leon, it's no use." She smiled sadly at him and he let out a sob, head hitting her chest as he cried. She saw in her peripheral as Ashley turned away, wiping at her own tears. "Hey." She coaxed his face back up to look at her. He was so sad, she doesn't think she'd ever seen him display so much emotion all at once. He was a mess.

"It's okay." She said in reassurance, a peace was beginning to set over her, something about being in Leon's presence always put her at ease, she felt safe. "You need to go, Saddler's still out there, I'm sure of it, get Ashley out of here." She said as she reached to weakly card her fingers through Leon's hair, hand settling on his cheek.

"I'm not leaving you." Leon sobbed as he placed his own hand onto her cheek, wiping away her rapidly falling tears. "I promised I'd get you home." She knew it was pointless to argue, as much as she probably should, she selfishly wanted to keep him here until she passed.

"It's okay. It doesn't matter." She tried to reassure, her voice growing weaker as she felt her heart start to slow, longer blinks now, breathing was harder. "I wish I could've told you." She said, it was now or never, she had his attention, all of it. "I'm in love with you, I have been for a long time." Her name left his lips in a breath as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"You have no idea how in love with you I am." He spoke and her heart felt full, fuller than it ever had before at his confession, she could die happy now, he'd said it. "If I could trade places with you, I would, in a heartbeat. I'm so sorry I never told you." He was crying again now, almost hysterically.

"Leon, you have to promise me that you'll survive this, you have to carry on." She said, recalling his earlier words, she was losing herself now, everything was harder as her hand fell from his face, Leon quick to catch it in his own, bringing it to his lips as he kissed over her knuckles, she smiled. "Promise me Leon." She said as she took in his features for the last time.

"I promise I'll carry on." He smiled sadly down at her, eyes closing as a full peace washed completely over her.

"I love you, Leon." She whispered before she went still, everything having stopped.

"No, no, no, no." Leon muttered to himself as he began to shake her again, as if he could wake her. He couldn't and the rational part of his brain knew that but he wasn't ready to let go, not of her, he doesn't think he ever will be.

"It's not fair." He suddenly shouted and Ashley jumped as he kicked the nearest table over, scalpels and other operating equipment scattering across the floor. "Why her?" Leon asked no one. He was venting now, his emotions no where near in check, a stark contrast to the Leon Ashley had been used to. Ashley's eyes softened as she watched Leon fall to his knees and sob, she approached him, dropping to her own knees as she took the now fragile agent into her arms.

"I'm sorry Leon," was all she said as she held the broken man in her arms, she wished she could take his pain away but even Ashley, who'd only known the two for a day or so could see just how much they loved one another. A bond that wouldn't have easily been broken, partners who trusted one another with their lives.

Leon took a good few minutes to calm down, Ashley's shoulder now stained with his tears. He stood suddenly, Ashley following. He bent down to pick up his pistol, checking the magazine before he placed it back into its holster. Ashley watched silently as the agent took one final look at his partner, bending down to place a kiss on her forehead.

He breathed deeply, rolling his shoulders as he headed for the door. "Come on." His voice sounded darker, colder, not the playful, softer Leon Ashley had grown used to. Everything about him was colder, his demeanour, everything. "We need to find Saddler." Leon spoke again as he marched out of the lab. Ashley suspected that Saddler was going to suffer a fate worse than death by the time Leon was done with him. Ashley wasn't sure Leon would come out of this the same man he'd started out, the loss he'd suffered too great.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy #re4 leon

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ashen-char · 2 days

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dating max fox - hcs

ship: max fox (better things) x gender neutral reader

warnings: none

notes: look at her she's so cute!!!!

✦ sleeps in. she'd sleep until mid-afternoon if you let her. and max is hard to wake up since she's so stubborn

✧ on days where you two don't have to do much, it's easiest to let her sleep on your chest while you scroll on your phone

✧ when max wakes up, she likes to keep cuddling with you and just watch what you're doing on your phone

✧ she's a big fan of TikTok time, which is where you scroll on your FYP and you both crack jokes and watch together. max is singlehandedly ruining your FYP algorithm by liking the most random stuff

✧ e.g. she watches parenting tips all the way through, making TikTok think you wanna see more. when you tease her about it, max says it's "for our future" and either holds your hand or kisses your cheek

✧ she says sleeping next to you is the most comfortable and safe she's ever felt <3

✧ adores cuddles. can't get enough of them. max always curls up next to you and you can tell if it was a tough day if she doesn't want to talk much

✦ tells you all about her siblings

✧ max doesn't like to show it and would never admit it to them, but she's so proud watching frankie and duke became people. she tells you about their latest achievements, or the rants about the last fight they had

✧ if a fight with her mom/siblings was particularly nasty, max comes to you for comfort. max worries about if she's gone too far, and you reassure her that they know she cares

✧ speaking of her family bond, it was crucial to max that you fit in with everyone. and of course, you were welcomed with open arms and immediate inside jokes

✧ max called them all embarrassing (she loved it)

✦ max isn't afraid to express her feelings, and that can lead to lashing out if she feels scared or angry

✧ she says things more harshly than she means to, which was hard for you at the start when you didn't know how much of a softie she is

✧ it didn't take long for max to realise she was messing things up. and she really liked you. so she decided to be vulnerable

✧ her hopes, fears, dreams, she shared them all. max couldn't bear you thinking that she didn't care when really the reason why she lashed out was because she cared so much.

✧ she's scared of losing you. and sometimes max worries that she's too much, or she's too freaked out about everything, so she closes herself off

✧ like, maybe you'll like her more if she deals with her shit alone and only has good times with you

✧ when you assure her that you want every part of her, the good and the bad, max completely breaks down

✧ you were surprised by how insecure your girl really is. under that confident persona, in some ways max is still that little kid that was rattled by her parents' divorce

✧ does love actually exist? can it last? was it her fault?

✧ not to mention all of max's past break-ups and short-term relationships

✧ she admitted that before you, max used to wonder if she was meant to go it alone forever. that she'd be too intense for anyone to stick around if they weren't forced to - like her family or her best friend, paisley

✧ you need to reassure her. a lot. but it's so worth it when max opens up. she wouldn't agree with you, but you think she's the best at love that you've ever seen

✧ despite her tough exterior, max is fiercely loyal. she'll stand by your side through thick and thin. she's got unwavering support and all the encouragement you need, even if that's with a lot of swearing and colourful imagery

✦ max's creative flair means all the romance impromptu poetry readings

✧ a surprise song about you, with max serenading you on her guitar. a pottery class where you make matching plates. homemade dinners under the stars (yes, it's a little burnt but she tried her hardest)

✧ she just likes creating shared memories with you, even if something ends up going haywire

✧ max also has this rebellious streak and thirst for adventure. your dates are spontaneous and never the same as the last. she'll surprise you by impulsively taking you on a road trip and you'll have the time of your life

✦ the love language(s) that max finds easiest to express is physical touch and quality time

✧ with max being the oldest, she has the most memories of life when her parents were still together. she knows how important time together is, because her dad not being around was the beginning of the end

✧ which is why max loves being with you in comfortable silence. she adores having someone she can just be chill with, someone who doesn't judge, and likes her the way she is

✧ max likes taking care of you when you're sick. she'll make soup and some hot tea, and even ask sam for some home remedy, bringing that all up to you on a tray

✧ then, she'll sit with you and tell you about her day. even if you're sweating out a fever, max doesn't care. she'll play with your hair and dab your forehead with a towel

✦ the love language that max loves to receive is words of affirmation

✧ that's actually why she fell for you in the first place - you gave her a genuine compliment when you first met and max couldn't stop thinking about it

✧ you give her compliments on things that she didn't know others would notice or admire about her. every one makes her blush and playfully shove you away

✧ max tells you that you've made her a better person <3

#mikey madison #better things #max fox #max fox x reader #mikey madison x reader

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possamble · 15 days

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do you have any particular thoughts regarding marcille being a half-elf? its interesting to me considering the fact that she seems self-conscious about being a half-elf, but denies it when its brought up

i remember marcille looking visibly uncomfortable over laios simply asking her how old she is, which i think the only reason she might feel nervous about this is because it might reveal her as a half-elf to him.

she's never corrected anybody whose called her an elf either.

never mind the circumstances of the reveal, in which thistle goes on about how half-elves are inferior and accusing her of wanting to become full blooded elf, she seemed particularly upset like he struck a nerve-

i wish the half-elf thing was built upon more. also, underrated marcille line:

okay so i revisited this sequence just to make sure I could back myself up and it's just... man. there's a lot going on.

the first reaction we get from Marcille is this huge panel that takes up half of the page

she is viscerally affected. flushing to the tips of her ears with the intensity of it. and we see it again, a few pages later

so it might seem like she's embarrassed about it and lying to herself, but... I really think it's just that Thistle is accidentally hitting sore spots. If you really look at what he says to get these reactions

"you'll live out your entire life [...] and die that way too"

"a hundred years from now, nobody will be there"

Hear me out. I think, if he stuck to harping on about her inferiority without bringing up how terrifyingly long-lived she is, she wouldn't have been as bothered. But right now, Thistle is accidentally hitting all the marks on Marcille's deepest fears-- and this is after the Winged Lion promised her that her dreams could come true in an extremely vulnerable moment, so it also hits her slightly guilty conscience as well.

I do truly believe that Marcille isn't bothered about being a half-elf the way that people assume she'd be bothered by it. To her, the biggest problem with being a half-elf is that it's isolating.

On one hand, it's not hard to imagine why she'd distance herself from elves in the west. A lot of them can clock her as a half-elf on sight, unlike other races, and therefore she's always branded with this weird stigma of being Othered -- I would even say that she considers herself lucky for being born outside of elven culture instead of having to grow up in it. I mean, just... look at the way elves talk about her.

Skipping past the uncomfortable implication of what 'not tolerating the existence' of half-elves would actually entail, this is incredibly fucking annoying. You can see why she wouldn't want to be around elves much. You see a lot of Marcille reacting badly here, but honestly, almost all of it can be attributed to her freaking out that her bluff completely failed. She's honestly more paying attention to Izutsumi's footsteps and trying to coordinate an opportunity to escape.

And in the end, you see her built-up frustration at being asked if she wants to be a full-blooded elf like 2-3 times in a row.

Yeah, yeah, "the lady doth protest too much," and all. But we know Marcille. We know that she's a lot more embarrassed and horrendously unconvincing when she's being prodded about something she's actually self-conscious about.

Moving onto the flipside of things, it might seem weird that she "pretends" to be a full elf around other races, but it's not really that strange if you think about it. Again, people are weird about her being infertile or whatever, and a lots of them don't even know much about what sets half-elves apart from everyone else. I mean, look at how uncomfortable Laios is just asking her about it

and look at how exasperated and resigned she looks

And like... she's right. Where would that come up in normal conversation? Why would she go out of her way to tell them? She's functionally a normal elf to other races anyway -- got the ears, the abnormally long "childhood", and the huge mana capacity. Unless it's directly relevant or important for people to know, I don't think it's all that strange or indicative of insecurity that she prefers not to bother with it.

(This combined with her sense of being an "outsider" to elf culture also explains why she thinks elf superiority is embarrassing. She sees the way elves treat short-lived races from the "outsider" perspective nonetheless, and thinks it's obnoxious; especially more so because she usually has to play the elf around short-lived races and deal with the reputation of arrogance that elves have built up.)

The sad thing is, this all means that... she doesn't actually fit in anywhere. She doesn't like going out West much because of how elves treat her. But she's also an outsider in the continents she was born in, treated like this exotic long-lived alien choosing to live among short-lived races for some reason. She is always an outsider, the Other, no matter where she goes. Add in the fact that she'll live longer than literally anyone she knows, and it's honestly kind of heartbreaking.

And I think that's the crux of it. Marcille really doesn't act like she's at all self-conscious about being a half-elf because of any feelings of inferiority or being half-made or whatever. She considers herself a perfectly legitimate being and might even, in some ways, consider herself superior to normal elves because she's not blind with elf supremacy or whatever. (And whatever "elven biases" she displays, all of them are born more out of the fact that she's kind of bad at conceptualizing how other races age and mature compared to herself, not that she actually considers herself better or more mature simply for being an elf.)

I think that whatever self-consciousness Marcille has about being a half-elf is, instead, related to terror and loneliness. The reminder that it ensures she'll never truly belong anywhere for the rest of her very long life. The reminder that, in truth, even she's not actually sure how old she is by other races' standards (hence the discomfort when asked how old she is). She doesn't want to not be a half elf, or be a full elf or full tall-man-- in her ideal world, she's still a half-elf. She just gets to live out her life at the same pace with the people she loves and doesn't have to say goodbye again and again and again until she dies.

and one last very important panel, right after Mithrun tells her that all her desires would be devoured

In her ideal world, she's still a half-elf and reality magically starts marching at her pace. But failing that, the second best thing is that she's still a half-elf-- but one who is able to accept reality and let go of her fear.

(But the rest of the story pans out the way it does because, to Marcille, taking reality apart and reshaping it was less scary than simply and fully reconciling with it.)

#asks #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #marcille donato #manga panel analysis #this is probably riddled with typos sorry #readmore cut bc it got long lmao #i ended up babbling about it bc it's such an important character detail to me #bc like... wow. she's so normal about it. she's literally just chilling.#the only thing that really bothers her is the material reality of it and how people treat her #the stereotypes the stigma etc. etc.#otherwise it just..#literally doesn't factor into her criteria for self-worth at all #the basic truth is that marcille likes herself on a fundamental level #she's not plagued by a deep and festering self-loathing the way a lot of characters in her archetype are #she likes herself and is proud of her successes and accomplishments #its just that shes terrified of failure and can have *episodes* of self-loathing when she fucks up #but who doesn't yknow #i know its a very slight nuance that makes very little difference in how her 'overachiever' problems manifest but its there #the sword of abandonment issues that hangs over her head has nothing to do with her self-worth or self-esteem or meeting her own standards #it has to do with the fear of not living up to *other* people's expectations and not being useful enough to be worth keeping around #she's good enough for herself but she's always so so so scared that she's not good enough for other people #i wont say much about what ryoko kui is saying using this as an allegory for real world racial biases but #dungeon meshi's treatment of marcille's relationship with her being half-elf is so incredibly important to me because it gets it so right.#a trauma about inferiority or being a half-being isn't inherent to the experience of being 'of two worlds' at all #that's something that's unfairly drilled into people by their environment #the *inherent* anguish is the loneliness. the constant longing. the fact that you are always homesick no matter where you are #always just a little bit of an outsider and never fully at home #and dungeon meshi gets that.#edit: cleaned it up a little

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fellhellion · 9 months

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one of the most interesting dimensions to shiori and juri's relationship for me is the fact reciprocation isn't the point of tension between them. their feelings for one another aren't at ALL unrequited. the issue that plagues them beyond juri's arc about begining to unlearn her own self hatred, is the gaping maw that is shiori's lack of self worth <- the thing that drives her to hurt juri. in no world can shiori healthily reciprocate juri's feelings until she stops hating herself.

#god im so mentally ill about her GOD.#tunes talks utena #they make me crazy insane because it was ALWAYS requieted #shiori wouldnt feel such joy at seeing her picture in the locket or such panic when asking why the nebulous 'it' has to be this way #if it wasnt mutual. it IS mutual. but thats not the point of tension between them. its the fact shiori is scared that if they ever left the #purgatory of never touching the love between them. it would change - leave even. its the fact that she finally FINALLY can drag juri down #into the dirt with her. where shiori has never stopped chasing juri's shadow and feels so inferior to her.#its the fact that gay love isnt permissable within the system and shiori isnt willing to abandon that system for juri #its the fact she hates herself for this love and she hates herself for not being good enough and she loves the fact this feeling #offers her control over juri when shiori felt she was untouchable. its the fact shes always loved juri and the only foil she would #ever have polished was juri's. its kissing boys where she wanted juri instead but better to have juri's eyes on her than nothing #GOD she is mentally ill...my girl my beloved blorbo

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azureasterart · 4 months

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btw i have d8 w de@ th brainrot real bad RN so I've just been drawing gwimmy instead of glamoo. I will draw glamoo I swear they are my babeis and I am getting to a point where I can think of glamoo again man they're so. They're so sweet,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, cries

#asterambling #Ok I will ramble about them now because I am thimkinh about themnow #Gladmo are like besties for for a few years and then glagion gets a crush on mooga and for half of the year he's just like ohh fucking shit #glaidon is just falling in love and thinks he has a one sided crush on moon (she would not date someone like him) but actually she #moonie had a crush on him first LOL #Moonie thinks he is the sweetest person in the history of ever (next to Hau and Lillie)#(Sun not included Sun is not sweet he Is a little creature from the hells (affectionate he's just a little kitty))#GLhADION does not consider himself very friendable much less boyfriendable. He would give himself a -200/10 and moon would give him a 12/10 #Bonus points for stupid hair (it's cute. Endearing) and being silly.#(he watched too much anime and now he keeps doing strange things with his limbs)#(that's called posing aster)#Anyway glagmoog stare at each other thinking “you are literally the sweetest strongest bravest stupidest person alive I love you”#All the time #And they are SO stupid btw one of them is going to die they are always like hmmm it's ok if I die as long as your ok and they're like #NO you stupid bitch don't do any of that !#Mutual wanting to die for each other and thinking the other is stupid for thinking like that #They both feel obligated to protect people which is why they're both doing the ultra beast missions together in my hc (Hau included #They are both scared of not being strong enough to protect their loved ones #Moon will overwork herself to de@th to become stronger and Gladion will get so angry and upset with himself for being weak #He's no good. He's no good at all!#Moon feels she will never be strong enough but Gladion feels he will never be good enough in general #Moon will be like. I love taking pictures of cute/pretty/beautiful things and then immediately take a picture of him #And he will be like. Ok but this is the same person who thinks a damn muk is cute #Moon will be like oh your so kind and sweet and caring and loving while he is giving silvally affection #And he'll be like. Yeah ok sure I'm just such a great guy (sarcastic)#He calls silvally Silvuddy (Japanese name)/his buddy in private and will die 4 his pokémon he gives them treats and hugs them and talks #2 them #And he loves his sister #he always thinks about how he should've taken Lillie with him when he ran he should have taken her with him he should've known Lusamine #would get worse he should've taken the other type nulls with him --|there was more but it got cut off.|

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madesofgold · 2 months

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Don't you wanna live far away from your family and their expectations sometimes and just start a new life?

#i feel so suffocated by my mother #she always gets herself involved in my business and crosses boundaries bc she just can't help herself #and she gets to do it bc i'm home most of the time even tho i have my own apartment but that's also not far away enough #and she still doesn't understand no and how to let me live my own life and she doesn't have to do everything for me #and everyone else i also want to please but i'm also sick of it and even tho they all mean well and they all just want things to go well #i feel so pressured by it and i just wanna get away from them all #but no wonder they all feel so invested in my life bc we're close and i spend a lot of time with my mum and grandparents and 'step dad'#and that's nice and i'm glad we're close and i wanna be but at the same time it means they sometimes just care too much #i guess i shouldn't complain about that like it's a bad thing but it just feels suffocating sometimes #and i don't want to live my life so that they're not disappointed in me and worry about me and so they're satisfied #i've been having the wish to move to another city or country for a while now and i honestly think it would be good for me #and especially me and my mama so that she cannot always get involved and has to accept that she can't control all things #and always try to 'help me'. i'm almost 25 like i need to learn how to live without my mother always being there #and god the urge to move somewhere else is so strong right now #i wish it was that easy to just be able to do it but i'm also anxious and scared and nothing is certain in my life rn #i just want a change though #sorry tumblr i had to let it out somewhere and i don't have therapy right now where i can actually talk about stuff #which maybe i should think about doing again #rambles

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yawnderu · 3 months

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Simon lets out a deep chuckle as he sees your daughter pick flowers from the light, clean grass, her tiny hands barely even managing to gather enough strength to get the stems out of the ground.

“C'mon, that's enough.” His voice is patient, calloused hands picking his daughter up as he brings her up to his chest, a small smile when he sees her holding onto the flowers for dear life, giggles leaving her lips as he starts bouncing her while they walk.

It became a routine, in a way, for Simon to bring his daughter whenever he visits his family. She's too young to understand, so pure, so untainted from the dangers of the world, always kept safe by Simon and you, yet he can't fight off the urge to make his family see her.

He walks for a few minutes, enjoying the chilly air while his daughter cuddles up to him, one of her tiny hands gripping his jacket, while the other one is still holding onto the flowers. He stops in front of a set of four graves, the familiar pit of dread setting deep within him starts to come out, shaky hands managing to gently put the little girl down on the cold ceramic.

Mrs. Riley.

If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.

Simon was hiding his hurt quite well, managing to sit down next to his little girl, one hand on her back as she started crawling around, finally setting the flowers down.

“Mum?” His voice is quiet, almost cracking, as if he was the scared little boy his mother defended with her life. His daughter looks up at him with curious brown eyes, sitting down and entertaining herself with her own onesie.

“I remember telling you I'd never settle down because I could never get as lucky as Tommy and Beth...” He dragged out, gaze going down to the ring on his finger, the physical representation of your union.

“You've met my wife before, and now I want you to see my kid too.” He's barely managing to speak, words coming out rough and choked up as his hand caresses his daughter's thin hair, making him pause just to examine her features. She's a tiny carbon copy of him, a lovely nose and a set of brown eyes that will never see the horrors he lived.

“She's a proper daddy's girl, but you would've loved each other.” He's sure of it. His mum was always so lovely, so nurturing. A true angel on earth with way too much forgiveness and patience for her own good.

He picks his daughter up, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Simon thought he cried all his tears when he was a little boy, yet his nose is starting to sting, vision getting blurry for a few seconds until a choked sob manages to escape his lips. He's quick to wipe any tears away, simply trying to focus on the peace and quiet the cemetery offers, his hand running up and down his daughter's back, patting it softly just to hear that little giggle that seems to always repair his broken soul.

“All of you would've loved her, shy little thing she is.” He sniffles again before a quiet laugh leaves his lips, smiling despite the way his eyes are still filled with tears threatening to spill at any moment.

“I'm quittin' the SAS soon, don't want her to grow up without a father. The wife's happy about it, too.” Simon lets out a small sigh, looking down at the graves of his family, all buried next to each other. He shakes his head softly, his free hand quickly wiping off his tears before he goes back to holding his daughter, rocking her with care.

“I'll come back with her next time, jus' wanted to talk to you today. Let you meet this lovely girl.” Big brown eyes meet his gaze, instantly cheering him up despite everything. He pinches his cheek softly only for the little girl to smack his hand away with a giggle, only making his smile grow wider at how hot-heated she is. Just like her mother.

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moondirti · 8 days

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simon sees a familiar face. (AO3 mirror) tags: darkfic. ghost x nude model! reader. (given a stage name but no discerning characteristics.) violent intrusive thoughts. objectification. rough sex. marking. dacryphilia. possessiveness. dubcon photo sharing.

It's the slip of her skin in his periphery. Moisturised, gold shimmer body glaze. Tucked up against the bar and nursing a negroni in both hands, her dress riding high up on her thigh. Sticks out like a sore thumb in a pub like this, where seedy men come to drink their woes away. Just a little too clean, prim and perfect polish. Pretty enough to make his teeth hurt.

He has to do a double take before he can be sure. Where he would know her calves, those hands and varnished nails, anywhere, he can hardly believe it until she turns a quarter angle and her face comes into full view. Lips he's seen perked up and glossed into erotic O's. Eyes so often half-cast and sultry, lined in kohl, that it's odd to see them wide like this; looking around, searching for something.

Yeah. Simon knows her. Knows her like the grip of a gun, the rip release of a hand grenade, the flat lining of barrack cot mattresses. Knows her so well that his cock chubs up in an almost pavlovian response, fat and heavy and leaking already, like a bloody sixth former seeing a pair of tits for the first time. In all honesty, this might just be the equivalent for a man like himself. Aching jowls, frothy lips. Ageing, dirty beast – thrown the most delectable fucking bone.

Because it's her. Cut straight from the centrefold of his favourite magazine and pasted a mere four feet away. Just as alluring, as provocative as she is in the poster he'd gifted Johnny on a deployment birthday. The object gracing every page not adhered together with dry cum. The one thing that gets him – and frankly, every other mutt on the task force – through long missions.

He throws back the last of his bourbon and slips his mask back over his chin. The haunt is emptier than usual. He assumes the big guy by the doorway is responsible, no doubt hired to follow her around and scare the creeps away. Simon must count as one – if his intentions, latched like filthy claws in his stomach, are anything to go by – but he's also bigger. Bolder. Probably has tattoos that outlast her bodyguard's experience in the field. So he takes his chances as he stretches up and prowls up to where she's sitting.

"Selene Harlow." It's a stage name, of that he's certain. But he has nothing else to call her by, not having fallen short of searching for her true identity. She's good at keeping herself safe from perverts like him. A good fucking girl, if not a little minx.

"Only on the clock." She smiles softly, dipping the orange peel in and out of her drink. It looks untouched, glass sweating onto the bar top. He thinks of holding her head back by her hair and knocking the concoction down her throat. "You don't look like my date."

Simon makes a sound. "No' your usual type, then?"

"I didn't say that." Her dress is low cut, bandage tight. When she breathes in, he devours the way her chest heaves out of the material. Begging to pop free, or else be ripped open right here. He can't imagine she would be opposed to being stripped in public. Not with her breasts plastered on a million different publications, issues displayed in the illicit material case behind every gas station counter.

"Well, he must be soft in th'head."

She shrugs. "Don't sound so surprised." Simon wonders, if he were to press his thumbs down onto each collarbone, how much pressure it would take to snap them in place. He's always liked the delicate arch of her shoulders, the swan-like column of her neck. With how he fixated he is on them now, he can hardly place the dejection in her voice. "Not a lot of people wanna go out with a girl who does what I do. It was only a matter of time before he found out."

"Can' be too pissed at him, a'suppose."

"Hm?"

"His loss is my gain."

"Aha." A flash of teeth. She turns on the bar stool to fully face him, and her knees knock his. Soft fucking legs, plush like a chew toy and he knows– he knows what they look like completely nude and spread open. But nothing could've quite prepared him for how different it is to see them in real life. To see her – real, fleshly, blood full – and not be able to take. Have to hold himself back despite the way he's pumped himself raw to her arse almost a hundred times now. He lost the plot some time ago. His mind must think of her as his. "Is that what this is?"

And what is this? Simon doesn't have a name for it. All he knows is the way his head itches, the tantalisation crawling in his skin. The sheer self-restraint it takes not to pocket her home and chain her to his bed. He wants to dig his teeth into her cheek.

Instead–

"Could be."

"I think that's up to me." She crinkles in a wily little smile and he chuckles because it's funny. Funny because she takes him to be a good man. But with the way her bodyguard is eyeing him from across the room (fucking muppet), he knows that's not the quality he's projecting. There's the urge to crack a sick joke, something about clipping a bird's wings, just to see her pick up on the rot he carries with him. "You military?"

"Tha' obvious?"

"Hm, no. Wild guess." She straightens her back and the vague gesture she makes with her wrist is enough to drive him up a wall. It sets a timer, ticking time bomb, in his brain that'll detonate if he doesn't get his nasty old hands on her waist. Thirty seconds on the clock. He can never be patient when it comes to sweet things. "Your... stature. And I tend to be popular with servicemen, anyway. What's your name?"

"And why do you wan' to know my name, bird?"

She flutters her lashes, pointedly looking down to where he's bulging in his jeans. Bird is right. She shines like one with pretty feathers, begs to be plucked, because why else would mother nature create things like her if not to appease men like him?

"Figure you'd want me to moan it later."

And it's like watching one fly into a cage on its own accord. His blood boils hot and thin, flooding his head until his eyes strain with something ferocious. "Why wait." Simon says. He can't wrap an arm around her waist fast enough, scooping her from her seat and wrapping her tight against his side. Tight enough that, if she changed her mind, she wouldn't be able to flap her way out of it. "Name's Simon, and there's a bathroom 'round back."

It's nasty. Depraved. Graffiti lines all four walls and it's no coincidence that the one he pins her up against looks the filthiest. Something in him craves to see her degraded (the same part that marked a picture of her in black ink, chicken-scratch body writing proclaiming her as his), brought down to the same peg that he occupies. Beasts with too much baggage stored in their marrow. Humans, men, with moral compasses that skew a tad too far left. Animals. Animalistic.

"I don– Don't usually do this..." She breathes, excuse stuttered through little whimpers as he mouths at her jaw. Maybe she's afraid of living up to her name, or whatever image Selene Harlow projects. Not a prostitute, he can almost hear her say. Tastes the fear of misconception, sour on otherwise tart skin. He hums and tugs her breasts free with one, scarred paw.

"Doesn' really matter, bird. Were fuckin' made for it." He squeezes the two mounds, pinches knotted nipples and rolls them between his fingers until she cries. Her voice breaks in little bubbled sobs – starts crying so fast that, christ, it must be some sort of record – and he aches in his trousers. Ready to burst if he doesn't bully his cock into a hole soon, just like she's been ready to be unravelled all night. "Made to be mine, yeah? Bloody 'ell, jus' look at you."

Frayed little tapestry. If he weren't so mad with lust, he'd obsess what drove her to this point. What brought her to some shitty pub in Manchester to meet a good for nothing lemon. Why she mewls and completely melts into him when he slaps her tits, just to see the way they jiggle. He's an ugly bastard, definitely punching just by breathing the same air as her, and yet she's so perfectly willing. Flaying herself open, skinned alive. Gasping selfish gulps of air when he finally pulls off his mask to sink his canines into her shoulder.

He's so used to seeing her posed, perfectly still. To have her like this, a trapped worm underneath him, feels like concentrated lightning on every artery. Overstimulating. Paralysing. He never thought he'd see the day where she exposes herself in motion: folding her dress up over her wide hips, slipping soaked panties down to her ankles.

(In fact, he vividly remembers brooding over an interview her magazine had added to the corner of a cover page, once. Selene Harlow tells all! Answers inquiries on video pornography and more!

I don't think I'm the right person for that sort of scene. Not much of an actress, I'm afraid.)

Not that her feigning was ever a concern. Simon knows the giddy gossamer over her eyes can't be artificially replicated. She's too clumsy, too amateur in the way she readies herself for him. Used to doing all this prep in a frilly dressing room with apathetic staff members directing her. Sways a bit on her heels and holds onto his thick forearms as she widens her stance. He stands until she's steady, then drops to his knees in search of the star of this show.

And the sight is as much a bludgeon to his self control as seeing her for the first time was, trigger for the feral mongrel that barks and chomps on his ribcage. Her cunt is just as perfect up close in this grimy bathroom as it is well lit, professionally oiled, and printed on coated paper. A little fuzzy, swollen enough that it flowers open for him on its own. Shyly inviting him to dig his nose right under her clit and inhale, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the scent of her, undiluted. Salivate blooms around his teeth.

When he flattens his tongue against it, she tries to find purchase in the roots of his shorn hair. Nails scrambling along the buzzcut until she forfeits and clamps her hand behind his ears, head thrown back to knock against the wall. If he were a nice man, he would spend hours buried between her legs. Sated by licking her slick from its source, like a kitten given a bowl of cream. Would make her cum until she forgets how to keep quiet, until she screams his name loud enough for the world knows their muse is off the market now.

But if he were a nice man, he wouldn't be defiling her here. He would've taken her out to the Greek place that never seems to have room for him alone, and then back to her apartment, where he'd drop her off with a chaste kiss and a promise to call her tomorrow.

So Simon combs through her lips once, twice, three times. Coats her in enough spit to be able to shove two fingers with little fuss, and scissors them apart. The little thing stretches to accommodate his ministrations immediately, clutch swallowing him up to the second knuckle and sucking around him when he spreads her hole for his leering eye. It's cute – so fucking cute how she clenches and keens and cries. Neck arched up above him. Apple of eden, blank canvas. His fingers leave her cunt as he rises to bite into it.

(Truthfully, she could've done with more prep. She wasn't lying when she said she doesn't do this often, whatever this is. But the way silver pebbles brim on her lash-line makes his chest twist, the dog rearing on its haunches, ready to pounce – and he thinks he'd like to see her babble in pain as he splits her open on his cock.)

"Gonna take you home after this, y'hear? Fuck you well 'n' good, all proper like. Fold ya over a mattress and print my cock on your guts, birdie. Never let you forget it. "

"S-Si! Simon, please. I n-need..."

Ichor beads in the shape of his teeth, streaking oxygenated red down her throat. He makes a mess of it, smearing it across the marred patch of skin, and brings the fluid up to her face to rub it into her cheek. The type of marking he'd reserve for his third or fourth going with someone – if anyone ever lasts that long – but is absolutely necessary right now. Here, with her. Technically their hundredth something time together, if he were deranged enough to count the various times he'd spent himself over her spreads.

But nothing can supersede the truth of the matter. He streaks blood along her face and licks it off in a show of merciless possession. Pretty things like her get plucked off streets and ruined everyday, despite her cynicism on her value, and he can point to at least three other men by name who would slaughter to be in his place. Best to stake his claim now, clamp a collar on the exotic fowl he pulled down from the sky.

"Need wha', hm?" His tongue laps at her cheek, laving over the contour of her nose and swiping right under her eye to catch the tears that freely fall. She winces when he gets too close, hands faltering along his waistband.

"Your... d-dick. Please, please. Just wanna be fucked, Simon."

He plants a rough kiss onto her mouth, all teeth and tongue, and finally ladles himself free of his jeans.

Just wanna be fucked.

Daft, silly girl.

She should've chosen anyone else.

It takes a bit of pressure to feed himself into her cunt, pinning either leg to the sides of his hips as he guides his cock toward the opening. If she was putty before, she's positively liquid now, boneless rag doll slumped onto him. Dead weight. Letting him take control of this fight. Content to do nothing, slack-jawed and empty eyed as her hot walls come to embrace him completely. Her breath halts, the air recalibrating to just the sound of his ragged grunts, and he considers it an invitation to wrap a fist around her neck.

"I'll do more than jus' fuck you, pretty thing. Won' ever let you out of my sight."

And he means it.

It's impossible to withdraw completely from her – vacuum sealed too tight, too good, around him. So he fucks in short thrusts instead, snapping his pelvis back, only to shove forward once her legs begin to flail about. It's brutal even by his standards, rough in a way that supplants pleasure with pain. A small pity surfaces when her lip trembles, discomfort wringing her darling face up like a dish towel. Wet and pathetic, but he sneaks his free hand down to knead at her swollen clit anyway.

Like oil, it slips and hardens, tense enough that he knows she won't last long if he keeps it up.

Simon feels his own release encroaching. Unfurling at the base of his spine to form something cruel and primal. His vision tunnels to fixate on her – not the filthy bathroom or the lewd squelch of her pussy taking him in. Not the banging on the door by a customer desperately needing to piss, or otherwise, her bodyguard concerned at the choked screams carved from her lungs. Just her. Little bird.

The howling in his head doesn't stop, but it sure as hell quiets down when she soaks the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. Squirts, off-white fluid gushing from her and trickling onto the tiled floor. His movements grow stilted, off-rhythm, at the sight. His want grows claws and scales, grows wants that have wants. Beastly. He sees red.

"N-noghonbirfcontraahl." She gasps, suffocated still by the fingers pressing crescent-shaped scars beneath her jaw.

"Don' give a shit." He growls, then cums.

(Really, he doesn't. To see her swell up with his child is just one more added temptation, carrot on a stick. He bucks like a rabid animal and bookmarks that thought away for later.)

His seed doesn't stay put when he pumps her full of it. It gathers and drips out of her, undeterred by the barrage of his softening cock. When he pulls out, it draws milky treks down her legs. There's the instinct to shovel it back into her, tape her lips shut until the spend takes; but as he pockets her panties and helps her readjust her dress (after polishing himself clean on the expensive fabric), he finds he quite likes the thought of parading her around like this.

"C'mon," He nips her earlobe. "let's walk you home."

Simon does end up making good on his promise. They hardly get any sleep that night, sweating on every available surface her flat affords. By the end of it, she's so tuckered out that he has to lift her to bed. Hardly cognisant as he strips to his boxers and sidles up right next to her.

What doesn't escape her notice, however, is when he pulls his phone out to snap a picture of her like this. Fucked to oblivion, puffy pussy oozing about three loads worth of cum.

"W-what are you–" Stuttered. Panicked, like a pet that has at last realised it's been caged.

"Shhhh, birdie. You're my model, ain't you? Let me show you off, yeah? Won' let it get into the wrong hands."

"Promise?" She whimpers, tucking into his broad chest. She isn't in the condition to give her proper assent, but he takes it anyway, kissing both eyes and carding his fingers across her scalp.

"Promise." He mutters, then sends the portrait off. "Jus' to men like me."

Sgt. Garrick: ?! Is that Capt. Price: Christ, Simon. Someone ought to muzzle you. Johnny: I don't believe you. Johnny: Pick up my calls. Johnny: SIMON.

#should've made this a proper fic #it's longer than i expected it to be #anyway.#simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley #ghost #x female reader #call of duty #fanfiction

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ourautumn86 · 6 months

Text

what girls can do

abby anderson x fem masc! reader

summary; abby wasn’t gay… right?

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, abby being scared of liking girls, reader is masc presenting!!!, reader fucking another girl (she has a reputation) and abby hears, switch reader and abby, masturbation (abby), kissing, make out, tension and touching in the showers, teasing, praising, praise kink, use of good girl, oral (abby and r receiving), boob and nipple play, hair pulling, hickeys, abby’s first time with a girl…

abby anderson wasn’t gay.

she had liked owen for as long as she could remember. she had even dated him. and sure, the sex was…, boring, to say the least. but that didn’t mean she was gay.

but then…, why couldn’t she look away?

you were working out at the WLF’s gym, white wife beater and grey sweats, hair up on a low bun as you grunted at the effort of lifting weights.

your thighs were spread, shirt slightly sliding up your stomach as you bench pressed. abby’s eyes lingered on the soft plush skin, wanting, no, needing to see more.

she bit down on her bottom lip, too out of focus of her own rutine. she was staring.

even more when she noticed angela passing by. she stopped to talk to you with a flirty smile, which you returned, smirk on your lips. abby heard rumors. rumors about how good you were in bed. how good you could make a girl feel. how they always came back to you for more… angela was an example of it. you had fucked her just a mere couple of days ago and there she was, looking for more.

abby watched as one of your hands landed on the back of her thigh, since she was standing up and you sat on the bench. she wondered how it would feel like. skin against skin. how your eyes would feel like on her.

she shook her head. yeah, no. she was just curious. pure healthy curiosity. she couldn’t imagine herself fucking you, or imagine you in between her legs, tongue out, mouth and chin dripping in…

she huffed, getting up from the machine she was working on and picking up his towel and bottle of water. she was not on the right head space to work out.

her way to her and manny’s room was not long, plopping herself on her bed with a huff and taking from her nightstand a book she had been meaning to finish in hopes to avoid thinking about you at all, which lately seemed to be the only thing she could think about.

that was until she recognized your voice though the other side of the wall, and angela’s, as you entered on your room, which stood next to abby’s.

the walls were so thin she could even heard the first contact of your lips against hers, the lewd smacking and the wet sounds of your tongue sliding against hers.

“you missed me, huh? needy girl…” you voice sounded muffled, but still high enough for her to hear, along with angela’s moan.

abby tried her best to ignore it, focusing on the ink letters of her book. but it was impossible to simply ignore you.

“you’re so wet…” abby’s cheeks flushed, feeling her cunt throb at your words. “you’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you? of course you have…” abby closed her eyes, trying to recompose herself. she should probably leave her room and go somewhere else, maybe pound on your door and ask you to keep it down. but somehow, she couldn’t move. she was glued down to her sheets.

suddenly, angela was moaning, and you were grunting. “that’s it. taking my fingers so good, good girl.” abby’s throat dried up. holy fuck. her thighs clenched, and her heart was beating so fast…

“fuck.” she sighed, embarrassed of herself. she shouldn’t be listening to this. but you sounded so good… and she was getting so wet… why was she getting wet? she didn’t like girls!

she tried and think about owen and the times the two of them fucked. she always struggled to get wet, and now? her hand pushed inside her sweat shorts and into her panties, fingers sliding through her folds.

she was fucking soaked.

“holy shit.” she muttered, her index finger touching her throbbing clit, her mind filling up with images of you. of your eyes, your arms, your muscles, your thighs, your chest, your mouth, your hands, your fingers…

she had to bit down on her lip to not let out a pathetic moan.

“look at you. what a dirty girl, i bet you’ve been thinking about this. about my fingers in your pussy, huh?” abby then pushed her ring finger inside her tight warmwalls, a gasp leaving her lips as she followed your voice, imagined it was you who touched her.

she was supposed to be embarrassed, touching herself to you while you fucked another girl on the next room… it was sickening. but she couldn’t stop. it felt good. better than it had ever felt before. and she hadn’t come in so long...

“that’s it. doing so good for me. want my cock, baby? want me to fuck you dumb?” she added another finger in, crooking them against her g spot as her other hand came up her shirt to squeeze one of her breasts, pinching her nipple. she nodded, imagining it was her you were talking to, you were touching and fucking. “you’re gonna cum? gonna cream my fingers?” she could hear angela’s moans, how they became more repetitive, gasps and huffs leaving her lips.

abby was getting closer, her thighs shaking. little low grunts we’re leaving her throat.

“yeah, go ahead. let me see it drip.”

she’d never come so hard before, vision turning white, breath leaving her lungs, mouth falling ajar in a silent scream as cum coated her fingers. her free hand, the one that had been playing with her chest gripped the sheets as her back arched. “fuckfuckfuckfuck…” she fucked herself through it, stilling her fingers inside her cunt once she had fully come down from it. she took a deep breath, her fuzzy brain finally reconnecting to reality. she realized what she had done, and quickly pulled her hand out of her pants, cheeks flushed and eyes unable to stare at the cum making her fingers shine. she hurriedly got up from her bed, quickly taking a change of clothes as she heard still muffled moans and voices. just as she rushed towards her door manny came in, and it only made her flush even more. holy fuck, she could have gotten caught.

“hey abs, wanna-“ before she could finish she was getting out the room. “okay… tremendas prisas…”

she went to the community bathrooms and took a towel, getting rid of her clothes to get into the showers. she slightly cringed at the feeling of her slick making her cunt stick to her panties. the water was just what she needed to calm down, splashing it all over her face.

she wasn’t gay… right? maybe she had just slipped. she was really pent up. maybe it all clouded her mind.

and then, there you were, opening the door and getting inside the bathrooms. abby’s eyes widened as she watched you slowly take off your clothes. you started by your wife beater, your hands gripping the rim to pull it up your toned stomach and chest, one of which hands you had just used to touch someone. abby wondered if you had already cleaned the cum out of your fingers, probably used your mouth and sucked it clean. her cunt throbbed at the thought. even more when she took in the sight of your exposed chest, beautiful perky nipples hardening due to the cold air hitting your newly exposed skin. you shimmied your grey sweats down your strong thighs, staying on your boxers as you made your way to grab a towel. abby’s eyes trained on your ass, even more on the wet patch on your crotch, she wondered if you were as wet as she had been thanks to your voice, if angela had touched you. had she made you feel good? had she made you cum? had she eaten you out? how would you taste? how would you sound? how…

she tightly squeezed her eyes shut, dipping her head back under the water.

“hey.” you said as you got beside her in the showers, opening the water. abby had to control herself to not look at you.

“hey.” she answered.

abby was cute. hell, she was beautiful. with blonde hair, broad shoulders, thick thighs and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. you’d lie if you didn’t think she was attractive. but she was straight. sadly enough. so you two had a pretty standard relationship. that being said… why was she blushing? maybe due to all the steam inside or here?

you discretely looked at her.

your eyes trailed down her toned arms to her little breasts, strong thighs and her plump ass. your tongue darted out from your mouth to wet your lips. she was hot. really hot. owen was, or had been, a lucky motherfucker.

abby caught you staring and her whole face seemed to burst in flames, but of course, you caught her too as you soaped up your body, slippery hands over your chest. you two stared at each other, and suddenly, the room was heavy.

you smirked as you watched her eyes follow your touch over your boobs. maybe she wasn’t that straight, you thought, but then she was looking away.

“abby?” you called for her, and her whole body seemed to tense up. bottom lip in between her teeth.

“yeah?” she inquired, and you leaned against the tiles of the bathroom, looking at her.

“you can look.” you said, softly. you could sense it, the nervousness, the inquiries. you could almost read her anxious and confused mind, could see yourself on her.

abby’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, her wet unbraided hair falling over her face before she would slightly peek at you. she gulped at the sight. you were completely bare, soft skin in display for her hungry and curious eyes. and you were beautiful. she took everything in. the curve of your breasts, the dip of your hips, the curls on your mound, your toned stomach and thighs…

you slowly walked closer, until you were caging her against the cold tiles, chest almost brushing hers.

“i thought you didn’t like girls.” you muttered, her blue eyes on yours.

“i don’t.” she said, and you scoffed, watching as she shivered when one of your hands took her hip. she was so soft…

you slowly leaned in, ‘till your breaths intertwined. abby looked down at your lips. what the hell was happening?

“are you sure?” you muttered, your lips brushing hers. she felt her heart beating faster inside her chest. “ ‘cause it seems like you wanna kiss me… do you wanna kiss me, abby?” you teased, fully pressing your chest against hers, making her groan. “i think you do…” your free hand came up her face to her chin, thumb pressing against her bottom lip. “why don’t you open up for me, hm?” she followed, her jaw falling and lips parting. “good girl.” you whispered against her before you’d close the distance, hearing her moan in your mouth, your tongue pushing inside her own. her hands came up to your shoulders, fingers gripping you as you lewdly and softly kissed her. for a moment it seemed like she was gonna push you away. she probably should’ve. but she didn’t. instead only pushing you closer, making you hum. your hand trailed down to her neck, where you left it, keeping her in place as you hungrily kissed her.

holy fuck. you were kissing abby anderson. you couldn’t remember for how long you’ve been dreaming about this. you’ve had a little crush on her for years.

abby should’ve feel weird about it, you’d just fucked a girl, put the same tongue that was on her mouth on angela’s, used the same hands that you were touching with to touch the brunette, but instead, she couldn’t just think about how fucking good it felt.

you pressed her against the wall. the hand on her hip going up to her chest, where you cupped one of her tits, kissing her harder. her body arched against you, and her hands found your hair, tugging.

she groaned when you pulled away, kissing the side of her neck.

“fuuck.” she sighed, feeling your index and thumb pinch her nipple.

“that’s it. you like it, hm? like it when i touch you like this?” she nodded, and you smirked. “shit. never thought you’d go for girls.” you incredulously said, to what she reacted.

suddenly she seemed to be lucid, pushing away from you.

“abby?” you inquired, but she was quickly taking her towel, draping it around herself and picking up her stuff. “abby!” you watched as she hurriedly left the bathrooms. her heart was on her throat. she thanked god her dorm was a few steps away from the bathrooms or else the whole WLF would have seen her running practically naked around the halls.

that afternoon abby locked herself on her room and didn’t even got out for dinner.

days passed by in which you hadn’t heard anything from abby. days in which the only thing she had done had been think about your time in the showers. in which she hadn’t gotten any sleep, feeling your touch all over her body, your kisses, your breath against her skin…

she could hear your voice, remember your teasing. she’d touched herself to it over and over again, facing the fact that yeah, she liked girls. she liked you.

that’s how she had ended up here, in front of your dorm’s door, knocking in the middle of the night. she was biting down on her bottom lip, hands sweaty and shaky and pupils blown. her cunt was aching and her heart was beating fast. way too fast.

she wanted it. she wanted to feel your touch again. she wanted you to kiss her again. to show her what pleasure really felt like. she wanted to know what fucking you felt like. would she moan like angela did? would you talk to her like you’ve talked to angela?

you opened the door, only a pair of boxers and a wife beater on. you seemed to had been still awake.

“abby?” you inquired, fully opening the door. “what are you-“ but before you could finish she was jumping at you, her warm hands cupping your cheeks to bring you in on a kiss. your eyes widened in surprise, still quickly closing when you felt her lips on yours. you hummed, stepping backwards and closing the door once the two of you were inside. you pushed her against it, her tongue inside your mouth, her hands on your hair, tugging as you took her by the waist. “what are you doing?” you pulled away, breathing on her lips with a smirk tugging from your own. instead of answering, she tried and kiss you again, but you didn’t let her, dodging her lips. “nuh-uh. speak.” abby groaned.

“isn’t it obvious?” she inquired, eyes on your lips. she wanted to taste them over and over and over again. she wanted to suffocate.

“i mean, i’m not complaining.” you said, crooking your head to the side. “don’t get me wrong. is just that the last time we kissed you ran away…” abby’s cheeks flushed. “so… what is it that you want, abby?” you inquired, your free hand coming up to push behind her ear a strand of her blonde hair. she shivered.

“i want you to kiss me.” she said, voice low and decisive.

“i can do that.” you said with a smirk before leaning in, pushing your lips against hers before your tongue would enter her mouth, wetly kissing her. you made her knees almost buckle. abby moaned against you, and you pulled her closer to you. your hands, which stood on her waist, crept under her shirt, feeling her abs. “is this alright?” you asked. you didn’t want her to get scared again. she nodded, her hands taking yours to guide them over her chest. “oh yeah?” you smirked. “you want me to touch you?” she nodded. “words.”

“yes. yes, please.” she gasped, and you tweaked her nipples, making her moan.

“fuck. you sound so good…” she sighed as your lips met her neck, crooking her head to give you more space. abby’s hand left your hair to get the rim of her shirt, pushing it over her head to leave her chest exposed. your mouth watered at the sight, a sight that you’ve missed the last couple of days. your kisses trailed down her neck to her chest and her boobs. her hands were back on your hair as your tongue darted out to lick at your nipples, one of your legs pushing in between her legs.

“shit.” she hissed, tugging on your hair. you hummed. “please touch me, please.” she begged, her hips rutting against your thigh.

“get on the bed.” you grunted, and you two quickly made your way to your bed. you thanked god you didn’t have roommates. abby’s thighs parted for you, your lips against hers. she moaned as you pushed down her legs her pajama pants and boxers. abby shivered when the cold air hit her wet folds, moaned when your fingers dipped in between her slicked lips. “fuck. you’re soaked.” you groaned. “you really want this, don’t you?” you teased her. “want me to fuck you? want me to make you feel good?” she nodded. your fingers met her clit, drawing little circles on it and hearing her moan, hips pushing against your touch. “that’s it. just what you needed, isn’t it? poor thing just wanted to feel good…” abby’s mouth fell agape when you plunged one of your fingers inside of her warm walls. “what is it, hm? your little boyfriend couldn’t fuck you good enough?” moans fell from her lips at the pumping of your finger in and out of her, your lips brushing against her own, eyes never wandering from her face. you wanted to see her fall apart. “of course he didn’t, i’m sure he couldn’t make you cum even if he tried. but i can. i’m gonna fuck you so good… gonna make you come so hard you’d be coming back for more. begging for more.” you added your ring finger, curling them and making abby whimper. “is that what you want? want me to fuck you dumb, abby?”

“yes, fuck. yes.”

you hummed. “wanna taste you.” you muttered against her lips, and in a blink you were in between her thighs. abby’s back arched and she gasped when your tongue licked at her throbbing clit.

“oh my god.” she moaned, and you hummed as you felt her grip at your hair. you kept her thighs spread as you sucked on her clit, fucking her open on your fingers.

“pussy taste so good…” you groaned, lapping at her arousal. you were slurping on every drop of her juices you could get. you noticed her squirming, moaning non-stop. it was as if she’d never… “have you never gotten eaten out?” she shook her head and you cursed under your breath.

“owen said it was disgusting.” you felt rage flowing through your body. disgusting?

“does it seem like i’m not enjoying it?” you inquired, and her cheeks flushed, shaking her head no. “exactly. that’s because i love it.” you licked a fat strip up her cunt. “i could drown in this pussy.”

you curled your fingers, hitting her g spot over and over again. her moans were getting louder, her thighs trembling and walls clenching around your fingers.

you knew she was close.

“i’m gonna cum.” she whined, and you only thrusted harder with your fingers, sucked harsher on her clit until her moans came to a stop in a silent scream and cum poured from her hole and soaked your fingers. “fuckfuckfuck!” you hummed as she whimpered, fucking her through it.

you kissed her inner thighs, and left a little peck on her clit before pulling away. she looked absolutely fucked out as you crawled up her body, pushing your lips against her and hearing her hum when she opened your mouth for your tongue. she could taste herself on your tongue. and it was making her wonder how would you taste.

“can i do it too?” she inquired against your lips.

“you don’t have to if-“

“i want to.” she cut you off, and you smiled, kissing her back. “you’ll tell me how, right?” you nodded.

“yeah, i’ll teach you.” and somehow, abby was getting wet again at those words. you pushed your wife beater off, along with your boxers before exchanging places with the blonde, who once she was on top of you couldn’t help but groan.

“so beautiful…” you sighed when you felt her kisses trail down your neck, sucking bruises that had you wanting more. usually you’d ask the girls that you’d fuck to not leave any marks on you. but you wanted abby’s. and you weren’t ashamed of it. her warm big hands cupped your tits. “couldn’t stop looking at you in the showers… you looked so fucking hot.”

“what do you mean the showers? you were staring at the gym too.” you teased her, and her cheeks flushed.

“shut up.” she said.

“why don’t you make me?” you smirked, your face quickly changing to one of pleasure when her hand cupped your cunt, fingers pressing against your puffy clit. “you’re wet.” it was as if she were surprised.

“no shit.” you let out a chocked laughter at the little circles she draw on that little bundle of nerves. “you’re hot, abby.”

“yeah?” she inquired and you nodded.

“been wanting you since the start. too bad you were with owen.” you said.

“yeah. too bad.” she agreed, slowly trailing down your body to lay in between your legs. “but you have me now, don’t you?” she inquired, eyes on yours and you hummed.

“yeah.” but then you were moaning at the experimental lick she made up your pussy, the heavy and earthy taste of your arousal hitting her and making her groan. it was over for her. she knew she’d become addicted. “oh, fuck.” one of your hands laced on her hair, your hips rutting against her tongue. “just like that.” abby hummed, lapping at everything she could get, her strong arms surrounding your thighs to push them over her shoulder and keep you there, at her mercy. “shit, abby.” you moaned her name when you felt her slightly suck on your clit. at your reaction, she did it again, harder, hearing you whine as your back arched.

“you’re sensitive, huh?” she teased, licking at your throbbing clit, and you hissed.

“why don’t you be a good girl and keep your mouth busy with my pussy, hm?” abby swore she could come, her stomach flipping at the nickname. you noticed the blush on her cheeks. “you liked that, didn’t you? like it when i call you my good girl?” she nodded. “speak up.” you ordered.

“yeah.”

“of course you do…” you cooed, taking the hair out of her face. “then earn it. make me feel good.” that’s all she needed to go back in between your legs, sucking and making out dirtily with your pussy. “just like that. atta girl.” abby moaned, her hips rutting against the sheets in need of friction. “use your fingers, come on.” one of her hands came in between your legs, her middle fingers prodding at your hole before slowly pushing in, making you sigh in pleasure.

she started to slowly pump it in and out, relishing in your breathy moans and grunts as she sucked on your clit, after a couple of minutes pushing in a second. wet squelches coming from your pussy taking her thick fingers filled your room, along with her hums and your groans.

“good girl abby, fuck, good fucking girl.” she was eating you like a starved woman, hungry for more. she couldn’t get enough of it. of your taste. of you. “i’m gonna cum. you’re gonna make me cum so hard…” your hips were subconscious rutting against her mouth, chasing your upcoming orgasm. she only curled her fingers faster, sucked harder, until she felt it; the squeezing of your walls around her fingers and your thighs against her face and the cum coating her fingers and tongue. she hummed, suckling and slurping on your juices, on every last drop, making a mess out of her cheeks, lips and chin until you pushed her away due to the overstimulation, pulling from her blonde hair. her hazy blue eyes looked at you, and your heart shuttered. you pulled from her so she could lay on top of you. “so pussy drunk… did you like it baby? liked eating my pussy?” she nodded, opening her mouth for you when you kissed her, feeling your hands cup her ass to thrust her against your pussy, making the two of you moan. “why don’t i teach you what else girls can do, hm?”

a/n;🤭

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bubblebbg · 5 months

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can i ask for a jealous mizu from blue eye samurai feeling a little overprotective and jealous when taigen spars with reader bc they are a swordmaster as well? Mizu doesn’t like it how taigen always gets you to laugh or how he injures you when sparring

why yes, anon. you may. Only warning is violence, but like, not really? Not proofread. Also, Mizu's pronouns change per perspective. I may as well shamelessly plug my other Mizu fic right here ;))

❝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

Mizu has no one to blame but herself when she's forced to bite back her envy and watch you with Taigen. If you two spar one more time, she might throw up in her mouth. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.

The clinking of metal on metal, the air sliced through with a swish; all sounds Mizu has become accustomed to. Nonetheless, her eyebrow twitches in irritation, eyes following the movements in front of her. She thinks to herself that she never wanted to be this accustomed to those sounds, especially not when accompanied with Taigen's stupid remarks.

She watches you double back after having knocked him down yet again in the midst of your spars. She hates the way the both of you giggle.

"Please," Mizu rolls her eyes, "It can't be that funny the eighth time."

Taigen collects his sword and stands, sheathing it before dusting himself off. "Like you could do any better. Sure, you're good, but you're no master." He looks to you as he says this, smiling as if the praise was at all inconspicuous. She scoffs a bit when you smile back, crossing her arms and looking to the side.

The irony of her jealousy is that it's of her own making. You've asked Mizu to train with you before, and every time it's been a no. Because she cares about you, she at least does you the decency of making up excuses. "I'm tired, maybe tomorrow" or "I'm busy" - poor excuses, she knows, but she's trying here - and you've learned to stop asking. The truth is, she doesn't trust herself to not give away what she tries to keep hidden. Her heart already beats hard enough around you. The consequence? Watching you spar with a man who's clearly inferior to you, all while he makes pathetic advances and jokes. She's not sure if she hates him or herself more right now.

"But that's right," Taigen remarks, a snarky look on his face, "You're too scared, aren't you?"

The look in your eyes is cautionary as you nudge him. "Stop it," you mutter. And Mizu knows she shouldn't be so childish as to take the bait, but this isn't about you; it's a direct challenge from Taigen on her (sort of) manlihood.

"I am not scared."

"Then prove it. Duel. Right now."

"That's enough, Taigen," you reply, always the mediator, "If Mizu doesn't want to spar, then he -"

"I'll do it," she stands, approaching you both and stopping in front of Taigen with a searing look, "And you'll see that you're not even half the swordsman I am."

𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …𓆪

Inhale. Exhale. You stand face to face, a few meters apart, each a hand on their sword. The cold bites, snow falling between the two of you. When you look into her eyes, you see blazing fire, a spirit like tempered steel. When she looks into yours, there's something more unnerving; calm, like the surface of water undisturbed. Her heart pounds.

Inhale, she wills herself. Exhale. She draws and lunges, and you're quick to block it. Another swing, and another, and another, all quick and strong. Sharp eyes, she thinks. Each attack of hers is stopped as soon as it begins. Your eyes, watching as if not only to prevent, but to predict.

Inhale. She steps back, assessing. You're like a fortress - impenetrable defense. Your lips curl in the slightest smile and there goes her damn heart's pounding again.

Exhale. She drops to a crouch and swipes snow at you in an attempt to blind you, to throw off your analysis. She lunges through the spray with a decisive blow, a duel-ending strike.

Nothing. Her blade hits nothing.

Instead there's a blade at her throat, with you behind her. "How the hell did you -"

She reddens at the feeling of your warm chuckle at her ear. "You're breathing gives you away," you whisper, "Every time, without fail." You sheath your blade and Mizu whips around to look at you. She can't help but share the smile you give her. "Dirty bastard," she replies, and your laughter fills the air, the only sound she'll never tire of.

"Hah! I knew it, you're no match either, Mizu!"

Mizu's about to reply when you beat her to it.

"Whatever Taigen, he lasted longer than you ever will."

And it's Mizu's turn to laugh.

#mizu #blue eye samurai mizu #blue eye samurai #akemi #taigen #taigen x reader #akemi x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai netflix #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai

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nysrage · 3 months

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okay walk wit me sis.. 😌

make it fit connie.. or like fake sympathy condescending connie while y’all fucking.. FUCK I LOVE THAT SHIT.. 😩

ouu girl i’m walking! lemme see if i can get it to slight jog tho!

connie wasn’t oblivious to the fact he had a big ass dick. no, not at all. he’d spent most of his late high school and early college years figuring out where’d he’d fit on the inch chain as he liked to call it. most girls not being able to handle it or wouldn’t even attempt to tame it once they saw the monster that lay behind his sweats. many of his friends making fun of him that he didn’t get pussy but in reality, no one was bold enough to take it for him. not until he got his hands on you.

the girl at his university know for her unique street art. from the city and a splitting image of a bratz doll, who was never scared of a challenge felt she was ready to tame everything in life even her above averaged boyfriend.

that is until she found herself atop of him, positioned in reverse cowgirl to give her a man a view he’d never forget. thighs burning from riding dick splitting her open as she sank down a few inches onto him. “f-fuck i can’ttt .” finding herself scurrying back up to the tip, running the longtime lovin’ he was giving you. “thought you wanted it mamí? let papí give it to you.” connie teased, long thick dick hitting every stop imaginable inside of you. “s’too much!” you whined.

“too much..?” connie chuckled, grabbing ahold of your hips and taking a good look your tight two toned pussy wrapped around him. slick dribbling down his dick as you started to fill that emptiness inside you. “nah i think my good girl can take a lil more..” sinking deeper into that clamping hole of yours, moaning at the pressure of him slowly filling you up and sitting you down on his dick. “shittt.” relaxing your body as your walls loosening with warm slick and pulsing as you adjusted to his size. slowly molding to his curvature, filling you deliciously. connie knew it just took a lil work for you to get where you needed to be. “mhm, keep opening that pussy f’me, you right there mamí.”

giving you a final deep thrust that left your soft ass flush against his pelvis, leaving stomach full and mind in sex crazed haze. “fuck this pussy s’good.” groaning as he bounced you up and down his dick, removing his hands once he felt he set a steady pace for you. Inching your hips and down slowly trying your best to take every single inch. Connie landing a rough slap to your ass that left your body jolting from the stinging pleasure. “go down on it princesa, don’t be lazy.”

“thought you said you could take it.”

ass ripppling like waves as he met your hips and fucked himself up into you focused on that pretty pussy sucking every inch of him deeper than he’s ever felt before. nails digging at his thighs for dear life as your body bounced above his, “your so fucking deep” whine barely audible above the loud gushing of your pussy let him know that it’d take every inch happily. “s’ too muchhh! con—” fucking you down on him harder as he reached the spongey spot within that always started the waterworks. “awe that’s all you can take mamí..?” voice rough and full of feigned sympathy as he held up your ass mid air and fucked up into you hard, taking his pounding like a champ and meeting his rough thrusts. A smile creeping on connie’s face once you start riding out the literal high your body was about to reach.

“and you whining it too much, pussy the perfect fit for papí.”

#nys works.ᐟ ᥫ᭡#black writers #aot x black!reader #aot smut #aot x chubby reader #aot x black reader #aot connie x black reader #aot connie x black!reader #aot connie springer #aot connie #connie springer smut #connie springer x black reader smut #connie springer x black reader #connie smut #connie x black y/n #connie x black!reader #connie x black reader #connie x black reader smut #connie x

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angelltheninth · 5 months

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WOOOHOOO YAAAAAY REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Request of the day with our lovely Mizu. Mizu and a shrine maiden reader. She stumbles into the shrine all bloodied and bruised and falls uncoincious and reader takes care of her. Mizu ends up staying for a longer while at the shrine, feeling pulled towards reader for saving her and wanting to thank her. Can be nsfw if you wanna!

I wrote shrine maidens before in other fandoms, it's always fun.

Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, fluff, kissing, gentle sex, injury recovery, fingering, slight corruption kink, nipple sucking, dirty talk

A/N: I think... I think I might have a corruption kink.

Mizu was no stranger to crashing in abandoned houses and shrines when she was injured

On occasion they weren't abandoned but she always managed to work something out for a few days

You were the only shrine maiden there so she was sure you'd let an injured samurai stay there for a bit

Except you insisted on her staying there until she's fully healed

Mizu tried to push your hands away when you wanted to clean her wounds. "I'm fine. I should already be on my way. I've taken enough of your time already." And put you in enough danger by staying here. It was a risk to host a demon samurai, but you felt it would be a bigger risk to her if she left.

"You're not healed yet. If you walk away from here and then die I will pull your soul back and scold you for it." Mizu laughed, her eyes joyful behind her glasses.

"My bad. Would you really pull me from Hell just for that?" What a question, of course you would. You weren't scared of her now, much less if she were a ghost. Besides since she trusted you with her secret you didn't think she'd be an evil ghost.

She's not sure if staying with you longer was good for her

For her health yes, but not not so much for her heart because the more time she spent with you, helping you around the shrine, watching you, enjoying means with you the less she looked forward to leaving

Now she knew she would eventually, she won't give up on her mission

But she thinks she may allow herself to call this place home, to call you home

The first kiss you share makes her cry, knowing it will hurt that much more when she goes traveling again, it may not be in a few months, maybe a year from now but it will surely hurt

"What about staying here forever. Don't you like it here?" You asked as you cuddled against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. She sighed when she pulled you up and kissed your cheek.

"I do like it here. I like you even more. Which is why I'm dreading leaving here." You knew it was a hard choice to make but at he same time you were grateful that she considered staying here for even longer then usual. When ever she kissed you it was one kiss more then she ever gave to anyone else. When her hands shifted to your bare skin it was with more love then she touched someone with for a long time.

Mizu loved quiet nights with you, spent slowly kissing you, drinking in your moans and sighs and teasing you when you pull away from her touch out of shyness. You want to give yourself to her fully, yet you're scared of making her eventual leaving even more difficult.

She was very gentle when she first made love to you, so gentle and patient, looking at you like you were a goddess

Also she managed to find a loophole to save your virtue, that your god cared so much about apparently

If you told her you couldn't give yourself to a man well then it was a good thing she wasn't a man at all, she was a demon

A demon who managed to charm and corrupt a shire maiden

Maybe you do have a slightly lesser chance of going to Heaven after all, but at least Mizu will have good company in the afterlife now

Mizu kissed your breasts with glee as you eased yourself on her two fingers. "I'm sorry I don't have anything bigger for you but for your first time I think this is enough. Or would you prefer demon cock?"

"I prefer you. Just you Mizu." You cup her cheeks and kiss her lips, feeling how hot they are, how contrasted from her cold looking eyes. "I want you." You moaned shamelessly as you felt her fingers curl inside you when she moved them in and out. "I love you." You confessed as you had a hundred times before, only this time it sounded so sinful. That was a given because it was layered with continuous wet, sloshing, slapping sounds of her hand smacking between your legs and into your dripping cunt.

"I never knew that shrine maidens were so slutty. Or is it that," Her lips kissed your breasts, directly over your heart, fully letting herself worship you, "you were just waiting for someone like me to wander in here and corrupt this pure soul of yours. Just listen to how your cunt wants it." Your legs shook when her fingers pressed along your front wall, making your hips jerk in her lap. "I-" She waited, bit back her confession, words that she had yet to say.

"Love you." You finished for her, repeating the phrase until you shook in her lap, flooding her hand and fingers, tightening around them as you kept riding them while holding onto her muscular shoulders.

"I love you." Mizu confessed at the height of your orgasm, when your moans and whimpers could cover it up. When she didn't have to think about it and could focus on the pleasure she gave you. She didn't have to think about it. Not yet.

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bet-on-me-13 · 4 months

Text

Ellie wasn't born a Halfa

So! Jason just found something weird. Or rather. Someone.

A little girl, no more than 6 or 7, crying behind a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, as unfortunate as it is, this isn't that strange a sight in Gotham. Kids are always running away from home, getting lost, being left homeless after a mugging gone wrong, but this time was different.

Because the kid was glowing.

When he found her hiding behind the Dumpster, a medical gown being the only thing she had to protect herself from thr frigid Gotham Winter, he didn't hesitate to give her his Jacket and take her to his nearest safe house.

(Actually it took a little while to convince her to accept the Jacket, and even longer to get her to agree to being taken to his safe house, but they got there in the end.)

When he had finally gotten her set up in a side room of the Warehouse, with the most comfortable bed and thickest Blankets he could find, he tried asking what had happened.

"Daddy lied." She said. "He said he loved me, but then he made another kid and said he didn't care about me."

And, once again, it was unfortunately not that uncommon to see runaway kids from neglectful homes, but the way she said it raised some flags in his head.

"...and, how did you end up in Gotham?"

"I ran. He said I was a spare, and that scared me."

Well, that was even more horrible than he had anticipated. What kind of monster tells their kid that they're a spare?!

"And, I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject but why are you glowing?"

She just buried her face in the Blankets and shook her head.

"Alright then, that's fine. You can tell me when you're ready, or even not tell me at all, I'll accept either or".

For the next few weeks, Jason juggled running his newly created criminal empire and raking care of the kid. He still hadn't gotten a name out of her, but she said to call her "Dp" instead. 'It's the best I'm gonna get', he thought.

It was only after a few more weeks, right before he was about to begin his Plan of confronting Bruce about the Joker still being alive, that she approached him and agreed to tell him everything. He was actually really glad that she finally seemed to trust him enough to tell him.

"Okay Dp, you can start wherever you want."

"...well, I guess I should start with my name..." She started, "...or rather, my lack of one..."

"What?" Asked Jason in a soft voice.

"I, I don't have a name." She explained, "Daddy never gave me one. He just called me DP-2."

"...what do you mean by two?" Asked Jason.

"It-It's my Experiment Number." She said, stuttering a little, "I'm not a normal person, I'm a Clone. I was made to be daddy's perfect child, but I was just the test run. He said that I wasn't needed after he made DP-3, and that all I was good for was spare parts."

Jason felt his throat dry up. Dp was a Clone? Of who? Who made her? What right did that guy have to reject her?! Who in their right mind would make a Clone and then reject the Clone?! How dare he!

The Pits perked up

He felt the Pits rising a little, but managed to push them down. Dp needed support, not the Pits.

"It's Okay kid." He said, holding her had reassuringly. "It's perfectly okay to be different. I accept you as you are, and I'm sure as hell not gonna abandon you that easily. Or, ever really. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

She giggled, and hugged him. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she pulled away.

"There is one other thing...you know how I glow sometimes?" She asked.

The Pits felt a sense of dread

Jason felt like he wasn't going to like this. "Yeah?"

"Well, when I said I was meant to be a Clone, I never mentioned who of." She explained slowly. "He's a kid named Danny, and when he was 14, he had an accident where he died and came back as a Half Undead."

No...

Jason really wasn't liking where this was going.

"When Da-Vlad tried to make me, he realized that those powers couldn't be cloned..." She paused here, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "...they needed to be added afterwards."

NO.

He didn't. He had better not have, for his own Fucking Sake, he had better not have done what Jason thinks he did.

"So one day, he took he down to the Lab, and he put me in a big machine." He voice broke a little. "He locked me in there, and then I think...that I died..."

...

For once, Jason felt completely in tune with the Pits. He was going to Kill that guy.

...

Sorry if this feels a little rushed, I kept going back to add or change parts of it.

Basically, Vlad realized that you can't Clone a Halfa. So, he made a workaround. He just stuck his first Viable Clone into a Portal, and let the machine Kill her. When he realized that it worked, he knew he had no use for Ellie anymore aside from spare parts.

And he told her as much, Vlad is a fucking asshole.

Ellie, of course, got scared and ran away. She ended up in Gotham, and was adopted by Jason right at the start of his Criminal Career.

When Jason finally hears about the rest of his kids' Backstory, he decides that Batman can wait his turn. He needs to go Kill that Vlad Bastard.

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Dani Phantom #Danielle Phantom #Ellie Phantom #Ellie is younger #Vlad decided to try his experiment the moment she was old enough to feasibly survive #The Pits are not seperate from Jason #They are actually his Ghost Half (aka his emotional half) shining through #Jason is a Halfa #He doesn't know that though #After they finish their conversation Jason asks Dp if she wants a name #She says yes and eventually he calls her Stella #Or Ellie for short #Cause she is his little starlight #Danny is unaware that Ellie exists #I wonder what happened with him #Maybe he is living his life back in Amity?#Maybe he is on the run because the “real danny” showed up with Vlad claiming that he had been replaced by an Imposter Ghost #And his Parents instantly believed him because Vlad is claiming that he has been no contact for so long trying to save “the real danny”#Maybe Jason finds a second glowing kid hiding behind a dumpster?#And maybe he realizes that this is his daughter's older brother?#Is that what happens?#Well maybe it is #But that's between Me and my crippling inability to finish my Part 2's

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